


What Do You See?

by LightningEyed



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Craftworlds, Eldar, Gen, Ynnari - Freeform, asuryani - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningEyed/pseuds/LightningEyed
Summary: Farseer Ardu'in of Ulthwé and Exarch Laulim of Iybraesil met centuries ago on a shattered croneworld. By Aeldari standards, not much time has passed, but with the rise of the Ynnari, things change quickly. Laulim is devoted to the cause of Ynnead, but Ardu'in is yet unsure.





	What Do You See?

“It is a Path like any other, but it is unlike any other.”

These words, spoken so softly among the stir of one of Craftworld Ulthwé’s cities, were heard by two friends alone. On an archway spanning out over a street, a resident and a visitor leaned upon railings of twisted metal and sung wraithbone.

Farseer Idralyth Ardu’in, the resident, frowned. “I’m not sure I understand, Exarch. I thought it was unlike your kind to follow a new Path.”

“This Path is not exclusive of others.” Aervyn Laulim, a Dire Avenger of Iybraesil, said the words slowly, patiently, as if she was explaining to a child or a mon’keigh. “Ynnead does not exist in a vacuum, at least not figuratively. I do not abandon my place as an Aspect Warrior by serving Ynnead as well. And I am not so fool as to leave my mask behind, or to stray from the Path I have followed for so long.”

Idralyth looked doubtful, but held her silence for a few seconds, considering her old friend’s words. “So you trust the Ynnari? You don’t think them clever liars?”

“Even if they are, can they provide a fate worse than She Who Thirsts threatens?” Exarch Laulim’s carefully kept brows knit together in frustration. “Why do you distrust them so? Many of the Seers of Ulthwé have put their faith in Ynnead already.”

“I am not like them. I don’t put my faith in idle fancies.” Idralyth’s hand brushed along the wraithbone embedded in her jawline, engraved with lines, whorls, triangles: runes she had sculpted. “I put my faith in the runes of fate. This is my Path. This is a Path that calls to me, a Path I have been most successful at advancing upon. I may be called to the Seer Council in time, but if I declare my allegiance to Ynnead, that chance will be shattered.”

“What do your runes tell you about Ynnead? Is it something so incomprehensibly bad—”

“Nothing,” Idralyth interrupted abruptly. “The runes of fate tell me nothing. I have never seen—or rather, _not_ seen—its like.”

“So what do you think it means? Have you asked anyone?”

“Of course not. The Seer Council distrusts the Ynnari. They are not sure how many others were working with Eldrad Ulthran when he…” She gestured like she was taking something. “You know.”

“Merely because you were researching Ynnead doesn’t mean you are one of us.”

“No. It doesn’t. But do you think they’ll take that as an excuse?” Idralyth scowled. “They will think I am trying to finish what Eldrad started. The whole Seer Council is a ring of paranoia.”

“So why do you want to be part of it so badly?”

Idralyth glared at Exarch Laulim. “Because… because that’s what every Farseer wants,” she snapped. “It’s the heart of Craftworld Ulthwé. It’s where all of our battle planning happens, where one can gain influence. We don’t have major shrines. Our commanders come from the Council.”

“Military command of a bunch of desperate civilians. You are leading to their deaths those who haven’t chosen the warrior’s Path, or those who have given it up. Do you really want that?”

“I don’t know what I want!”

A few others, who were passing by below, startled at Idralyth’s sudden shout, backing away and hurriedly moving on with their business.

“Fine. Then we’ll start from the other side. What _don’t_ you want?” Laulim stared at her pointedly. The deep crimson band tied around the Exarch’s upper arm fluttered in the breeze. “Because I would assume, like most Aeldari, that you do not want to be consumed by She Who Thirsts.”

“No. I don’t. None of us do.”

“What about the alternative? Being stuck inside the dull gray of Ulthwé’s infinity circuit until no one remembers or cares who you were? Or perhaps being plucked out and embedded into a wraith construct, fueled by and feeling nothing but the agony of the hour of your death? Or—as you are a Farseer—watching yourself slowly turn to crystal until your psychic consciousness is all that you are able to control?”

“All of those are better than what is uncertain.” Idralyth gestured at her runes again. “These tell me what is certain, Exarch. These tell me what is safe. I would rather remain where I am, would rather crystallize or pilot a wraith, than risk losing everything. Will my soul not empower Ynnead anyways? Is that not what his prophet says about the infinity circuits?”

There was a great sadness in Laulim’s eyes. She reached out to touch Idralyth’s cheek, and the Farseer flinched.

“I should have known better than to try bringing you around with an appeal to faith,” Laulim said. “You became a student of logic and reason when you started on the Path of the Seer. I’m sorry, Idralyth.”

She turned to go, and the mark of Asurmen hanging at her belt clacked against the rune of the phoenix, the icon of Ynnead, just beneath it. The Aspect Warrior descended a delicately spiraling staircase at one end of the archway, and Idralyth did not watch her go.

Idralyth instead, deep in thought, pressed her lips together. She had met the Aspect Warrior on a shared battlefield, a shattered Croneworld, striking from the shadows against what must have been several groups of mon’keigh seeking something beneath its surface. At that time, four centuries past, she had been new to the Path of the Seer, and young. It was her first Path, and she knew she should not hold onto it as she wished. She respected Laulim, as her senior, but also as a friend, as one tactically gifted. The Aspect Warrior had only ever come to her to discuss things so deeply important…

Idralyth was a student of Ulthwé’s Seer Council, and perhaps, she realized, what the Council wanted her to believe about the Ynnari had clouded her opinions. The Council was full of mentors, but schemers. Laulim was Idralyth’s friend, or at least longtime ally. The Farseer, realizing this, knew she had made a mistake in turning the Aspect Warrior away.

“Aervyn,” she said, suddenly, calling the Exarch by her first name, and the Aspect Warrior turned back, though she had set off down the street, and looked up towards the archway.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to let this Path go. I like it.” Fear lit her eyes from within. “But I know I will have to, in time, unless…”

Exarch Laulim nodded knowingly, but prompted her to finish her statement. “Unless?”

“Unless there is some way Ynnead can… protect me. Allow me to keep it. You said the Path of the Ynnari is not exclusive of others.”

Laulim half-smiled. “And what of the Seer Council?”

“I don’t care what the Seer Council thinks.” Idralyth shook her head. “I really don’t. Tell me how you reconcile the followings of Ynnead and Khaine. I want to know more.”

“What prompted this?”

“I value our friendship more than I value power.” Idralyth arched a brow. “If nothing else, if I am to be leading civilians to their deaths, I want those deaths to mean something. To give us strength, or at least hope that this will end in something more than our destruction, even if what I see…”

“You speak of your runes? What do you see?”

“Nothing,” Idralyth shook her head. “But perhaps, in time, I will.”


End file.
